


We All Fall Down

by emrys (livingshitpost)



Series: The One Where Magnus is a Dad [2]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Child Death, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced miscarriage, Minor Character Death, Miscarriage, Not Beta Read, Oops, Original Character Death(s), Other, POV Second Person, Past Character Death, Survivor Guilt, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Julia Burnsides, Trans Magnus Burnsides, Trans Male Character, Trauma, a more.. canon-compliant fic w my magnulia kid. where they're dead., everyone is fucking trans you can't stop me, guess who has survivor's guilt ? it's magnus, i'm sorry mango.., magnus is mourning, magnus loves kids, that's a lot of death tags fr a fic that doesn't actually show any character death. hm., why do i do this to my boy mango.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-26 23:37:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12069297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livingshitpost/pseuds/emrys
Summary: "What?" You scoffed. "No, of course not.""Are you sure?""Yes, I'm sure. I never had kids.""Sir, you're a very bad liar."(i'm,, not good at titling things)





	We All Fall Down

He noticed the way your shoulders tensed when Merle introduced his kids. Of course he did; he's Angus McDonald, boy detective. He had to've. The kid doesn't miss anything, and you're not great at hiding things anyway. It was only a matter of when and how with him, not if. He didn't draw any attention to it, though. Not yet.

You sat at the bar, holding a beer bottle filled with juice. (Taako had been bribed into making sure you didn't get too drunk.) You tried not to show how anxious it made you when Angus perched himself on a bar stool and ordered himself a root beer float. He tapped the bar rhythmically for a moment, then folded his arms and leaned forward on his elbows, turning to you.

"Forgive me for being so direct, sir," he said, "but did you ever have children?"

"What?" You scoffed. "No, of course not." You took a sip of your drink. God, you wished it was alcohol.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I never had kids."

The bartender gave Angus his drink. He started to drink it, and for a fleeting, blissful moment, you thought you might be free of the conversation.

"Sir, you're a  _very_ bad liar."

You hang your head and sigh.

"Yeah, I know. Fine. I . . . I was a dad." You think about it for a moment. "Kinda." You put down your juice and bite your lower lip. "Well, almost."

You look up at Angus, and he's just staring at you expectantly.

"Have I told you about my wife, Julia?"

He nods.

"And, you," you gesture to your chest, showing off the neat, fading scars below your pecs. "You know I'm trans."

Another nod.

"So was Julia. And, once we'd liberated Raven's Roost from . . . whoever it was-"

"Governor Kalen."

It sounds like your head is underwater.

"Who?"

"Nothing. You were saying?"

"Well, once we'd liberated Raven's Roost, we got married, and we decided to start a family. You know . . . traditionally."

"You were pregnant?"

It takes everything in you not to clap your hand over his mouth. It's stupid, but it still makes you nervous.

"Yeah." You stare at your hands. "It was three months later when the Craftsmens' Corridor went down. I was in Neverwinter, and when I got back and found my wife and father figure dead . . ." You sigh. "I was so stressed and overwhelmed that, a few days later, I miscarried." You wish you were drunk, so you didn't have to remember this conversation later. "I'd guess I was only three months along. Maybe less." Your hand drifts down to your stomach, but you catch it and rest it in your lap.

"How long ago was that?"

You puff out your cheeks and sigh as you do the math in your head. "Ten or eleven years now? Maybe twelve. I dunno. Somewhere in there."

Angus is quiet for a moment. He drinks his root beer float.

"I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's not your fault. You're like, what, six? Seven?"

"Ten."

"Okay, maybe it is your fault," you say with a smile. He laughs at that.


End file.
